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by CrownedQueen_Avi



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M, Not Canon Compliant, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Drug Use, Past Relationship(s), but mostly canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-28
Updated: 2019-10-27
Packaged: 2021-01-05 10:49:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21207278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrownedQueen_Avi/pseuds/CrownedQueen_Avi
Summary: He eyed her warily, as if they were In the middle of some sort of staring contest. “I thought you moved to France.”“I did. And now I’m moving back.”“Why?”“Because I knew now was the time to come home.”





	Home

**Author's Note:**

> sorry about the bad summary, this is a new story and I have no idea where this is going.

She had been walking the streets, trying to find the correct address.

“This is useless, I’ll never find Baker Street at this rate,” the woman sighed in defeat. The petite female had been walking the streets of London for just over an hour, watching the sun get lower and lower.

“Excuse me, Miss?” a voice called out to her.

Said Miss turned around to see a taller gentleman with salt and pepper hair looking down at her.  
“Y-yes..?” she asked the man.

“I overheard you were looking for Baker Street?” the man asked. She looked up at him a bit oddly.

“Oh, where are my manners. I’m Greg, Greg Lestrade,” Salt and Pepper held out his hand.

“Lucy Niccals, and yes. I found an ad in the paper for a job offering and I just can’t seem to find the correct address.”

Greg nodded in understanding. “What is the address, if you don’t mind me asking.”

Lucy shook her head. “Oh, not at all. It was 221 Baker Street. Flat B, I believe.”

Greg sighed a bit. “What’s he doing putting an ad in the paper?” he asked himself quietly.

“I’m sorry, was it a mistake?” Lucy asked nervously. I knew it. It was too good to be true. Who would offer a job out of a flat in the centre of London? She thought to herself sadly.

“No, probably just an experiment of his. That or the LandLady finally stopped cleaning up his messes,” Greg explained. “Lucky for you, I’m coming from there. Unfortunately I can’t walk you there myself, but I’ll try and help with the directions.”

“Oh, yes, please. Anything will help at this point,” Lucy smiled slightly. “Thank you.”

“Not a problem,” Greg turned away and pointed down the street Lucy was heading towards. “You’re going to turn left at the end of this road and at the end of that block you’ll see Speedy’s cafe. It’s just after that, black door, 221 on it in metal. Hard to miss.” He turned back toward her and smiled. “Got it?”

Lucy nodded and thought about it. “Left at the end of this block. Keep walking until I see Speedy’s cafe and it should be right after that.”

“Yeah, if you go past Speedy’s, that’s too far,” Greg added.

“Thank you Mr. Lestrade,” Lucy smiled gratefully at the taller man. ((5’11’, wow))

“Not a problem, Miss Niccals. I’ll be seeing you,” Greg nodded and walked away, disappearing into the crowds of London. 

With new directions in her mind, Lucy began walking down the street, turning left once she hit another crosswalk, and checked on either side of the road before spotting the infamous Speedy’s. “It was this close all along and I’ve just been wandering aimlessly around the block.”

Once arriving, she looked up at the tall, yet not so wide building, and took in a deep breath. “Well, Lucy, it’s now or never,” she assured herself before knocking on the door.

“Coming,” yelled a voice from the inside. It sounded warm and sort of motherly in a way. When the door opened, Lucy saw an old woman, nearing her seventies - if not already there. “Oh hello, dearie, you must be one of Sherlock’s clients. I’m Mrs. Hudson, his landlady; I live down here on the ground level.” Mrs. Hudson pulled Lucy inside and shut the door behind her. “What’s your name, dearie?”

“Lucy Niccals, ma’am.” Lucy smiled lightly at the older woman, already feeling welcomed by her inviting nature.

“Oh, please, I’m not that old,” Mrs. Hudson laughed lightly, beginning to pull Lucy up the stairs. Huh, the third and seventh step creak a bit, the small woman observed. “Please, call me Mrs. Hudson. You know, you sure did make a good choice asking for Sherlock’s help, he’s bloody brilliant.”

“Oh I’m not here as a client, Mrs. Hudson,” Lucy said quietly as they reached the second floor. “I’m here-”

“She’s her for the job I advertised in the paper,” a voice interrupted, causing Lucy to jump a bit.

Lucy turned around slowly to see quite a tall man of at least six foot, and cheekbones sharp enough to cut a peach. He had dark brown curls, the softest thing on his cold and pale looking body, Lucy knew. And his eyes…oh how the greenish blue they gave out reminded her of the sea on a warm summer day.

“Ah! Sherlock, so good of you to join us,” Mrs. Hudson smiled at the young man.

“This is my flat, Mrs. Hudson. Besides, I heard the two steps creak on the stairs. It was obvious to anyone paying attention I would be getting a visitor sometime soon.” He noticed the creaks, too, Lucy thought inwardly.

“Lucy,” he said, looking down at her.“Sherlock,” she replied curtly.

“Oh,” Mrs. Hudson smiled pleasantly at the two young adults in front of her. “Do you two know each other?”

“You could say that,” Lucy smiled softly. Her gentle green eyes gazed up at the tall brunet adoringly. He looked back at her with cold blue ones; an emotionless void. 

“Mrs. Hudson, leave us be, I’d like to speak to Lucy privately.”

The matronly woman smiled at the intellectual before her and nodded, walking back down the stairs to her flat quickly.  
Sherlock waited until he heard the elder woman’s door shut before leading Lucy into 221’s B flat. He led her into the living area of the main room and gestured towards John’s chair, encouraging the petite woman to sit. They sat in silence for what seemed to be hours. Eventually Lucy sighed and crossed her legs, something Sherlock knew she did when she was uncomfortable.

“Why are you here?” He asked.

Lucy laughed lightly and shook her head. “It’s a pleasure to see you again, as well, Sherlock.”

He eyed her warily, as if they were In the middle of some sort of staring contest. “I thought you moved to France.”

“I did. And now I’m moving back.”

“Why?”

“Because I knew now was the time to come home.”

**Author's Note:**

> thanks so much for joining me on this new journey, kudos and comments are always appreciated!


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